


Reading Lessons

by Em_313



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Bittersweet, Class Differences, Fluff, Gen, School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 19:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16455815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_313/pseuds/Em_313
Summary: Katherine is determined to teach some of the younger newsies to read.





	Reading Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> The original idea for this came from a tumblr post and I feel horrible I can't find the url now! I'll give the person proper credit if I find the post again.

April 1900 

Jack’s arms were full of paper bags from the deli, so he used the toe of his boot to nudge the door open. Katherine was sitting at the table with Georgie and Butchie, two new young newsies. 

Jack sat the bags down on the table and yelled out, “Fellas! Supper!” 

“Heya, Jack.” Georgie said. He was just nine, with crooked teeth and a mop of red hair under his newsie cap. 

“Hey, kid.” Jack said. He moved to stand behind his fiancee and planted a kiss on top of her head. “Ya beat me here.” He said. “Slow news day?” 

The other boys thundered down the steps from the bedrooms and the rooftop. Katherine leaned back in her chair and looked up at Jack. “No, just needed to get out of the office for a bit.” 

A dozen newsies tore into the sandwiches Jack had brought and ate ravenously, most of them not even bothering to sit. 

Jack noticed a couple folded squares of plain paper on the table in front of Kat and picked one up. “What’s this?” 

“She learnin’ us readin’.” Butch said around a mouthful of sandwich. 

“I’m teaching you to read.” Kath corrected gently. 

Jack pulled up a chair next to her at their wobbly wooden table. 

“They ought to learn.” Katherine told Jack. He put his hand on her knee. “They were getting frustrated trying to read from the papes. The print’s too small and there’s too many long words.” 

Race, who was only half listening at the other end of the table, nodded. “I knows the feelin’.” He said. 

“Oh, shut the hell up, you smartie.” Crutchie said. It was true. Race was a brilliant kind of stupid. 

“Finch the one who cain’t read.” Elmer said, which earned him a slug in the shoulder. 

Jack grabbed one of the little books. Kat had folded a couple pages of her journal in half, hastily sewed them together with a scrap of blue yarn, and written short sentences in tall, neat script. “George sits. Butch sits.” he read aloud. “Georgie and Butch sit in chairs. Georgie and Butch sit on the curb.” He looked up. “This is pure art, Katherine. Real hard-hitting journalism.” 

“Thanks.” She said. “I try.” 

Butchie picked up the other little book and slowly read. “The boys...h-h-hear the bell. The boys...eat. The boys p-p-p…” He frowned and threw the book into his lap. “This is stupid.” 

Kat picked up the book and read the page for him. “The boys pay for papers.” 

Jack took the paper from her. “Where’s ya pencil, Kat? What these needs is some illustrations to liven ‘em up.” Katherine handed him a stubby pencil and Jack bent over, shielding his work with his hand. A few minutes later, he grinned and sat up. “Read it now, fellas.” 

Above where Kat had written “The boys pay for papers”, Jack drew half a dozen newsboys at the distribution center. The boys were sticking out their tongues as they handed sticks, burnt cigars, and wads of gum to Weasel, who was drawn with bug eyes, a long nose, and a deep frown. In the background, two newsies seemed to be in a fistfight. “That’s more like it, ain’t it?” Jack said. “Weasel don’t deserve our money.” 

Butchie and Georgie laughed and the older boys crowded around to see. “Draw more!” They said. 

“Y’all should start some kinda comic strip.” Crutchie said. “Kat’s writin’ and your cartoons.”

Jack reached across his brothers for the last of the sandwiches. He handed one to Kat and took a bite of his own. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get right on that. Not like I don’t got a full-time cartooning job already.” 

Katherine smiled and shook her head. “This is certainly different than how I learned to read.” 

“Well, not all of us can go to finishing school.” Jack said. 

“My father let me in his library when I was really little.” She said. “I’d climb into his great big office chair with books that were heavier than I was and pretend to read. People said I was too curious. Finishing school we memorized a lot of poetry.” 

“Yuck.” Butchie said. 

“The melancholy days are come,” Kat began to recite. “The saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, And meadows brown and sear. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, The autumn leaves lie dead. And…” She hesitated. 

“Show off.” Albert rolled his eyes. 

“Princess.” Tommy said. Jack glared. 

“I like it.” Specs admitted. 

“I memorized that when I was probably eleven years old. All that creepy imagery’s stuck with me.” Katherine said. “It’s by Bryant, I think. I wish I could remember the whole thing. It’s awful good and awful sad.” 

Jack balled up his sandwich wrapper. “I can’t believe you liked school.” He said. 

“You didn’t?” Kat asked. 

“Nah, I was stupid.” Jack said. 

“You’re not!” She put her hand on his shoulder. 

“I was in trouble all the time.” 

“That I can imagine.” Kat said. 

Jack remembered being eight years old and sitting stiffly in a hard, high-backed desk, trying to be invisible. It was right after his mother and sister had died; loneliness seeped into his bones. He would draw trees and buildings and faces in the corner of his slate. “I got my hand smacked with a ruler a whole bunch for drawin’ instead of working.” He said. 

“I got smacked for sleepin’.” Race said. The other boys chuckled. 

“Your mother read to you, though, didn’t she?” Kat pressed. 

“No.” Jack said. “She told stories. Didn’t need no book or pape between us. They all comes from her brain. My old man could sign his name and that’s ‘bout it.” 

“Hey my folks couldn’t read neither.” Albert said. “Ain’t no shame in that.” 

“I know there ain’t.” Jack snapped.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Kat said. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

He sighed, then smiled and patted her knee. “Ya just forget we ain’t all born with silver spoons.” He said. 

“Jack?” Georgie held up one of Kat’s books. “Would ya draw this one too?” 

Jack reached for his pencil. “Sure, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an English teacher, so when I saw that post about the boys learning to read I knew I had to play with it.   
> In 1900, only about half of all school-aged children were enrolled in school. Same year, 94% of White adults were literate. Only 66% of Black/POC were. 
> 
> Tell me your favorite newsies song or your headcannons of what Katherine was like in finishing school! Thanks for reading and reviewing friends!


End file.
